


Duckies

by featheredschist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Ducks, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Tower Time AU, M/M, no actual animals are harmed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 16:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2075697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredschist/pseuds/featheredschist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a mysterious new blanket in the break room of the lab for Tony and Bruce. Who brought it to them, and when will they break down and use it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duckies

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was born of seeing this image: http://zeeewa.tumblr.com/post/93609715547/it-was-a-long-night-of-sciencing on Tumblr. I grabbed the bunny and ran.
> 
> Nutella and Brie sandwich idea came from an assist with OrderlyChaos, so we have no idea how tasty this sandwich actually is.
> 
> There is only kissing in this fic.

Neither knew where the soft, pink, fleece blanket had come from. It had just appeared one afternoon on the well used couch in the lab, folded over one of the arms waiting to be used. It was covered in fuzzy yellow ducks.

They each ignored the blanket, preferring the scratchy, old, woolen thing that Tony had from his college days whenever they thought about grabbing a blanket if they were about to crash from working too hard. Though once or twice, Bruce used the pink fleece as a pillow, as it was easier to ball it up under his head instead of trying to use the sad, deflated pillows Tony refused to replace.

After a particularly trying week with the board, Tony appeared in the lab where Bruce was busy working on a gamma project. Eyes wild, he skittered around without focus for awhile before Bruce pulled him to the nearby table they always left clean so they could eat without getting projects in their food, or food in their projects.

Dum-E brought over a plate of sandwiches that Steve had insisted the boys keep in the food-only fridge, refreshed every eight hours by someone on the team, usually Steve when he was in residence.

“Tony, eat. Relax a little. You're done with the Board this quarter, and you can come help me with this gamma detector,” Bruce said, quietly enforcing his wishes by wrapping an arm around Tony's waist. Dum-E chirped as he plunked the plate down on the scratched steel table. The sandwiches, ham, cheese, lettuce and tomato this time, bounced a little on the plate, but stayed intact. Tony grumpily picked one up and viciously took a bite, imagining the face of one of the Board.

Thirty minutes later, Bruce let him up and they went to work, grinding away on recalcitrant projects for the next 15 hours.

Clint brought them new sandwiches in that time span, a new combination he wanted to try of Nutella spread and slightly melted Brie cheese. They lasted all of thirty minutes before Bruce found them and scarfed up half. Tony had to rescue the rest just to make sure he got any.

The dual coffee makers worked overtime to keep the scientists in their preferred beverages. Tony in triple strength espresso and Bruce in double strength black tea. You patiently refilled the machines as the carafes were emptied, bringing full mugs to each man as they required them.

Hitting the wall of too little sleep, way too much caffeine, Tony and Bruce stumbled to a halt on their project clearing, and left their work, trusting JARVIS to save everything and safely shut it all down. Fortunately, no project was at a stage where Bruce was working with volatile chemicals, and having the AI shut the computer modeling down was easiest.

“C'mon Bruce, how about a quick nap on the sofa?” Tony cajoled, leaning heavily on the smaller man. He leaned over Bruce's shoulder, somehow managing to not trip Bruce as they navigated across the floor to the break room.

“If JARVIS will wake us when the others return, we can have dinner, and then go to bed,” Bruce agreed.

“In four hours, gentlemen, I will wake you for the team dinner that Captain Rogers has requested for this evening,” JARVIS agreed.

They got to the couch, and arranged themselves on either end, pushing their shoes off for comfort.

“Who gets which blanket?” Bruce asked, yawning. He had the pink blanket on his side, and hoped to keep it for his pillow, at least.

“This will never do,” Tony grumped. He was squished between Bruce's legs and the back of the couch. “Dum-E, bring me the extra blankets from the closet!” he ordered. The robot hastened to obey, whirring and chirping as he went. “Bruce, turn about, and be a spoon, all right? Sheesh, you'd think we weren't in a relationship or something,” Tony said, leaning up to grab Bruce by the arm and tugging him over.

Bruce reseated himself, tucked into the cradle of Tony's body and the couch.

“Do you want to use the monstrosity for a pillow, or a blanket?” Tony asked him, breathing warm air into Bruce's curls.

“Blanket. That thing you prefer scratches too much,” Bruce mumbled sleepily.

Tony snorted a laugh, but helped shake out the duck print, pink blanket to cover them both. Dum-E brought over two more blankets and left them at the other end of the couch.

 

A few hours later, and JARVIS had the bots gently waking the men up from their quick nap. You brought over steaming mugs of lesser caffeinated coffee and tea to help them wake up enough to be functional, but not hype them back to full alertness.

“Sirs, you have 20 minutes before the team dinner,” JARVIS said when he thought they were both aware enough.

“Thank you, J,” Bruce said into his mug of Matcha. The steam curled around his face, and gently dampened the curls on his forehead, loosening them to hang a little in front of his eyes.

Tony accepted the mug of black coffee with a grunt of thanks. He was never articulate before the first two mugs, no matter what kind of sleep he had.

“C'mon,” Bruce said, taking a deep mouthful of the tea before attempting to stand, “You can drink that on the ride to the common floor.”

Tony grunted again, but followed Bruce who managed in one try to stand, pulling away from the blanket. They stuffed their feet back into shoes, neither caring that the shoes were mismatched. Tony wrapped himself tighter in the pink blanket, shuffling along behind his partner to the elevator, eyes mostly focused on the black elixir he swore kept him going more than the arc reactor.

 

When they reached the communal floor, and got off the elevator, Natasha was the first to see them.

Her eyes went wide with surprise, and she began giggling, which attracted Clint's attention.

“Hah!” he guffawed, slapping one knee. “Now there's a sight. That blanket is attractive, Tony!”

Tony grumbled, but continued to drink his coffee, and just walked on through to the dining room where Thor, Steve and Bucky were swapping stories. They fell silent when Tony walked through the doorway, well, shambled really. The mug was nearly empty, and he could see that the first course of food was already on the table.

“Tony, are you wearing a pink fleece blanket?” Steve asked carefully, his expression neutral.

Bucky turned his head away from the sight before him and tried not to laugh. Keeping his gaze away from Thor at this point was key.

“Tony, that is a striking ensemble!” Thor allowed, laughter bubbling through his voice.

“Laugh it up guys, laugh it up,” Tony mumbled, taking the blanket off and draping it over the back of one of the chairs before he sat down. He put his mug down, rubbed his face, and yawned.

“But Tony, the pink goes with your armor and everything,” Bucky finally weighed in, snickering from beside Steve at the far end of the table.

Maturely, Tony stuck his tongue out at them all. Bruce came in just after, bringing in fresh drinks. Natasha and Clint followed behind, taking up their seats between Thor and Bucky.

“So, where did that blanket come from?” Bruce asked, setting a glass of root beer down in front of Tony, who frowned. Bruce just shook his head once and settled in the seat next to Tony, his own glass of root beer beside his plate.

“None of us did it, right?” Steve checked, looking at each team member. No one cracked under the weight of Steve's gaze, though everyone was still feeling a bit silly about Tony wandering around with the blanket wrapped around him like a poncho.

“Hmpf,” Tony grumped one more time before Bruce elbowed him in the side.

The team passed around a couple of bowls of salad, and several bottles of dressing to start off their meal, talking about everything and nothing of consequence. They shared news of their last missions, and updates on their lives throughout the meal, and worked out upcoming team exercises that Steve insisted they go through.

After dinner, the team broke up, Tony and Bruce especially unable to stay alert too much longer. Their short nap not nearly enough to offset the sleep deprivation they had undergone in the last 50 hours. The rest went their separate ways as well, some to rest, others to some other form of relaxation.

Bucky lingered, wiping down the dining table they'd all sat around, a thoughtful look on his face. “JARVIS?” he asked out loud, when he thought he was alone.

“Yes, Mr. Barnes?” JARVIS replied quickly.

“The ducks, Tony _did_ have one as a kid, didn't he?” Bucky took the small collection of crumbs back to the kitchen with the towel to dispose of, then stood next to the sink, wringing the cotton towel between his flesh and metal hands.

“Yes sir. From the memory encoding I have of his childhood preferences and his interactions with the butler, Edwin Jarvis, there was at least 1 or more toy rubber ducks throughout his childhood,” JARVIS confirmed without inflection.

“Buck?” Steve called, steps obvious as he walked back to the kitchen from the living room where they kept the TV and game consoles.

“In here, Steve. Just finishing up,” Bucky answered, too quickly.

Steve, as usual, saw right through him. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Bucky tried to hide. “Just, the past making thing difficult again.”

“You sure?” Steve reached out a hand to take Bucky's, unflinching that he grasped the metal one.

“Yeah punk, c'mon. I need to beat Thor at backgammon,” Bucky flashed a grin, one that Steve was very familiar with from their adventures in the '30s.

“All right. I think Thor is setting up the board now,” Steve accepted Bucky at his word, but reeled him in for a tight hug, and a quick, soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before they went to match wits with the god.

 

Bruce stood in the opposite hallway, closer to the elevator, wanting to get a bottle of water to drink before completely crashing, and contemplated what he heard.

After a minute or two, he simply shook his head, and went into the kitchen to retrieve what he needed, grabbing a spare for Tony before heading up to bed. It didn't matter who brought the blanket in. And it ultimately didn't matter if Tony remembered the link to his childhood. It was a nice gesture from Bucky, and likely had come from the work Tony had put into working on the unique metal arm.

Bruce would have a quiet word about reciprocity the next time he was cognizant, but until then, he'd sleep, content that everything within the tower was safe and secure.

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry, but not really, for spawning Bucky feels in this fic. I went where the characters led. PS - this is also posted without editing, so please, let me know about any egregious errors.


End file.
